Ronny mused about the twelve Supreme Grade Blades—the pinnacle of sword craftsmanship in the One Piece world. He pondered where he might acquire one of these legendary weapons when a sudden realization struck him. Why search for famous blades when he could learn the art of crafting them himself? With his infinite skill points, he could instantly master any crafting technique and forge Supreme Grade Blades whenever he desired.
Elated by this revelation, Ronny strolled through Loguetown, where Gol D. Roger had been born and executed. His eyes lit up when he spotted a traditional Japanese dojo displaying a wooden sign that read "Kendokan."
"A kendo dojo..." Ronny thought, observing the well-maintained building. The dojo seemed somewhat renowned in Loguetown, and its master appeared to be a respected swordsman from the East Blue. Ronny felt confident that this establishment would offer him valuable insights into advanced swordsmanship techniques.
Inside the dojo, teenagers around thirteen to fourteen years old practiced vigorously with wooden bokken, sweat glistening on their concentrated faces.
"Swing!"
"Ha!"
A stern, middle-aged man adorned with two katana at his waist observed the young disciples attentively. His piercing gaze never wavered, maintaining perfect awareness even when Ronny entered the training hall with his newly acquired Sandai Kitetsu clearly visible.
"Hmm?" The middle-aged swordsman's eyes narrowed slightly as he noticed Ronny's entrance, taking note of the Grade Blade at the newcomer's side. However, he remained composed and continued supervising his students' training regimen.
Ronny smiled subtly, refraining from speaking as he respectfully observed the dedicated young practitioners.
A year ago, when he had first arrived in the One Piece world while enduring tremendous hardship, he had secretly watched others practice swordsmanship from the shadows. Using a wooden stick as a makeshift training sword, he had attempted to mimic their movements in secret. Eventually, an elderly instructor who taught village children basic kendo techniques had noticed Ronny's unwavering dedication and quietly gifted him a proper wooden bokken. The old man had turned away afterward, never officially inviting Ronny to join the formal training sessions, but he had also never discouraged the persistent young observer from watching. After half a month of careful observation and three months of dedicated solo practice, Ronny had finally grasped the fundamental principles of swordsmanship.
Shortly afterward, the Evil Wolf Pirates had arrived in that village during one of their raids. Unlike many pirate crews, they had decided to spare the villagers' lives rather than engage in senseless slaughter. Recognizing an opportunity for growth and survival, Ronny had made the difficult decision to join the Evil Wolf Pirates. He hadn't been alone in this choice—several other villagers and teenagers had also opted to either join various pirate crews or enlist with the Marines. While Ronny's motivation had been personal development and strength, the younger villagers had been driven by a desire to eventually protect their homeland.
Ronny shook his head, dismissing these memories, and continued standing respectfully at the edge of the dojo with his sword at his side and a faint smile playing across his lips.
"Hardy, haven't you eaten anything today?" Suddenly, the stern middle-aged instructor halted the training session and stepped forward, delivering a controlled strike that knocked down a particularly weak-looking teenager who was panting heavily from exhaustion. "Is someone as frail as you truly fit to wield a sword? Do you honestly believe you can become a swordsman with such pathetic stamina? You're simply biting off more than you can chew!"
The exhausted teenager winced slightly but didn't express any real pain. He understood that the instructor had pulled his strength significantly. If this renowned swordsman of Loguetown had used his full power, he could have easily inflicted serious injury.
"Stand up and continue your training!" the stern man commanded.
The weak teenager rose to his feet with determination and resumed his practice routine.
After observing for a while longer, the stern instructor nodded approvingly. "That concludes this morning's training session. You may all take a well-deserved break."
"Yes, Sensei!" The teenagers stepped aside in unison, catching their breath while casting curious glances toward Ronny, the unexpected visitor.
"Hey, why do you think that man is here?" one student whispered.
"I'm not sure. He seemed to be watching our practice intently!"
"Do you think he came to learn kendo from our master?"
"Well, that's entirely possible!" A tall young man with keen eyes stared admiringly at the stern middle-aged instructor and whispered excitedly, "Our teacher is the most formidable swordsman in all of Loguetown, so it's not uncommon for swordsmen from distant places to journey here seeking his guidance!"
"Haha, that's absolutely true! Our master is renowned throughout the East Blue for his exceptional swordsmanship!" another teenager nodded enthusiastically. "This stranger probably traveled all the way here specifically to learn from our sensei. That's highly probable!" The other students nodded and grinned with obvious pride. They felt a sense of excitement thinking about their esteemed instructor being sought after by traveling sword enthusiasts. As they observed Ronny standing respectfully with his impressive blade, they couldn't help but experience a renewed sense of superiority and accomplishment.
"Excuse me, sir."
The stoic middle-aged man walked several measured steps forward in his traditional training gi, positioning himself approximately three meters from Ronny. This distance represented the optimal range for drawing his sword with maximum efficiency—a tactical position that the experienced swordsman naturally favored.
"Have you come to our humble dojo for a specific purpose?" he inquired with formal politeness.
Ronny offered a respectful bow and replied courteously, "I have heard that Master Grace is a renowned member of Loguetown's swordsmanship community, and I, a humble student named Meaville D. Ronny, have come seeking guidance and instruction. I hope Master Grace will not hesitate to share his invaluable insights with me."
"Seeking guidance? Instruction?" The composed man's interest was clearly piqued as he studied Ronny more carefully, a glimmer of curiosity flickering in his experienced eyes. The quality of the blade at Ronny's side and his respectful demeanor suggested this was no ordinary aspiring swordsman seeking casual lessons.